


of offerings and hate

by Axo_L



Series: escape from reality, of offerings and hate [2]
Category: Joker (2019), The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: Arthur is Joker, BAMF Arthur, But you could read it independently i guess, F/F, F/M, OC feels like the victim, Sequel, Suicidal Thoughts, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28443225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axo_L/pseuds/Axo_L
Summary: “I don’t hate you. I have no reason to,” Bruce said reluctantly, “you did try. I can acknowledge that.” Vic crossed her arms in discomfort.“My anger was misdirected. I should be pissed at Joker, not you. If anything, I guess you were a victim, too,” Bruce sighed. Vic now looked at him with interest.“...And you’re someone who can potentially get close to him,” Bruce tried to say nonchalantly. Vic felt her stomach twist as she realized what he was implying.Getting into more trouble wasn't on Vic's to-do list once she was released from prison, but it certainly wouldn't be out of the question, especially if Arthur was involved.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Harleen Quinzel, Arthur Fleck/Original Female Character(s), Bruce Wayne/Original Female Character(s), Harleen Quinzel/Original Female Character(s)
Series: escape from reality, of offerings and hate [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083410
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Back to Reality

**Author's Note:**

> hello again, if you're here from "escape from reality" ;)
> 
> I've been writing this on and off for a while, but I've decided to publish it especially after seeing the trailer for the new batman movie haha. I wonder if the two movies will be related? Also they're making a Joker 2? 
> 
> Just more reason to write, I guess
> 
> tags are pretty plain now but I hope to make them.. steamier

The sky darkened gradually as clouds slowly moved in. Victoria Evans stood at the edge of the sidewalk adjacent to the prison she had served her time in for the previous 10 years. 

She looked up to the clouds, comparing them to a similar day that decided her fate 10 years ago. She grabbed her wrist anxiously, praying that it wouldn’t rain before her mother picked her up. 

It was hard for her to believe that she was released. It felt wrong to walk freely and she wondered if it was too soon for her to leave. She had killed someone, and whether it was intentional or not, she knew that she had made ripples in that person’s life that could never be stopped. 

She was officially convicted of second-degree murder, but given the amount of information she had on other wanted criminals, she was given the minimum sentencing. Her previous involvement with Arthur had prevented the charge from being reduced to manslaughter, but admittedly, her persona of a white, young girl originally from a well-meaning family helped her conviction. 

Her mother was late. Vic guessed she had been standing on the sidewalk for about 30 minutes. She reflected on the last interaction with her mother and gulped. 

Vic’s sentencing came from the judge in the courtroom with some of her family present. Despite the exceptions given by the judge, her mother still sobbed upon hearing the charges. Vic had turned to see them, and exchanged a glance with her mother. Her mother had previously been hovering in a stage of denial, not believing that her daughter could do anything like murder. Vic assumed that the sentencing cemented her realization that she  _ did do _ it, and she  _ did _ have to answer for what she had done. 

After it had felt like an hour, Vic finally saw a boxy red car driving down the road leading to the prison. She stepped towards it, an anxious feeling rising in her chest. What was her mother going to say? Would she be grateful to see her? Would she be disappointed?

The car came to a halt in front of Vic. She opened the door and sat down in the car. Her mother’s expression was serious and she had barely given Vic a glance when she entered the car. A sense of shame began to build in Vic. It overtook her whole body. 

They shared an awkward silence as her mother began to drive back towards home. Vic looked out the window, trying to ignore the awkwardness between them.

Finally, her mother began to speak. 

“We need to make some things clear, Victoria,” her mother began. Vic looked at her, trying to read her expression. It was closer to anger. 

“I’m sure you can imagine the scandal that occurred after you were convicted, Mason really struggled at the company. The Board almost voted him off, but somehow he kept his job.” Vic listened to her mother but eyed her with skepticism. Her mother continued. 

“We know it’s going to be nearly impossible for you to get hired as an ex-felon, so I’ve convinced Mason to let you work at his company until you can fully clear your name,” her mother told her, almost with an air of smugness. 

“What? I never asked you to do that,” Vic told her, her mouth slightly agape. 

“Well, we’re  _ asking _ you to do that,” her mother replied. “We can’t have you tainting our appearance further. If you want me to be honest, you embarrassed us and we almost disowned you after they shipped you off to prison.” Her mother said to her, void of any caring emotion. Vic felt her anger rising. “You should appreciate the fact that we’re taking you back.”

“You basically disowned me anyway when you refused to help me with college, forcing me to live in that dump of an apartment.” Vic snapped back. Her mother’s expression turned to offense. 

“Victoria, you know that’s Mason’s money, he worked for it. We didn’t want you to go to that school anyway,” her mother scolded her, exasperated with the lack of her daughter’s appreciation. 

Vic’s mood darkened. She thought that if anybody would’ve been glad to see her, it would have been her mother. She tried to empathize with her, reminding herself of the things her mother had sacrificed when she had her at 18 and the abusive marriage she had endured. Admittedly, she had never seen her mother as happy as when she was with Mason. 

Vic shook the thoughts from her head. She told herself that the past shouldn’t matter, she still deserved a fighting chance.

She looked out the window to distract herself and end the conversation. Trees and buildings flew past as they drove to a neighborhood outside of Gotham. Vic’s stomach turned as she imagined stepping into the family home.

She eyed the handle of the car and wondered briefly if the pain of rolling out of a moving car would be less than knowing she was the most disappointing part of her mother’s life. 

* * *

Vic found herself in shock when her half-brother and step-father treated her better than her own mother when greeting her for the first time. 

Her stepfather was noticeably older than Vic remembered, but she was most surprised by Keith, her half-brother who was only a toddler when she went to prison. He was now 12 years old. 

They simultaneously greeted her with a ‘welcome home’ as she entered the house. Keith held a poster board up in the air, painted with the same words they had spoken. 

Vic looked at her mother for an answer upon seeing their greeting. Her mother had no outward response. Instead, Vic grinned at them both and meekly thanked them. 

“Thank you for the surprise?” She said to them. Oddly, they seemed satisfied with her response. 

Mason quickly corralled them to eat dinner and wasted no time chatting Vic up on what she would be doing at his company. She debated telling him that she actually wasn’t that interested in working for him since it seemed to be out of pity and obligation. Her urges were suppressed with her mother nearby. 

She listened to him describe the clerical work that she would be doing. 

“Of course, you know it’s a construction company. You would file papers, answer the phones, maybe type a few things into the computers if we needed you to, like reports, customer information, meetings-” Mason started to ramble but Vic cut him off abruptly. 

“I’ve never used a computer in my life. I’m probably terrible at answering calls too.” Vic told him. 

“ _ Victoria! _ Be willing to learn, will you?” Her mother shot from across the table. 

“Carolyn, it’s fine,” Mason said calmly. “We’ll teach you,” he reassured Vic. She nodded and then looked closely at the food in front of her. 

She had forgotten what a meal like this was like and felt spoiled that it had been prepared by Mason’s personal chef. It was a neatly spiraled plate of pasta smothered in pesto and topped with halved tomatoes. Vic began to eat cautiously, but then started to eat quickly. She had forgotten what gourmet food tasted like. 

Her mother’s voice interrupted her heavenly reunion. “While working for Mason you have to be on your best behavior and under no circumstances can you stir up trouble.” Vic stopped eating to look at her mother.

“Do you think I’m a teenager?” Vic asked her. Her tone was reminiscent of when she was in secondary school. 

“I just don’t want Mason to have to fire you.” Carolyn motioned to Mason, minding his business and eating his food in silence. Vic looked over to him. He nodded slightly. 

Vic could tell that the next few months were going to be rough. 

* * *

Being released on a Friday meant that Vic had the weekend to try and reacclimate to the outside world. However, she knew that two days was not enough when her mother woke her up Monday morning, holding a business casual outfit. 

She begrudgingly got up and did her best to be presentable in a business environment. Vic assumed she did a decent job since her mother had no gripes while saying goodbye to her and Mason. 

Vic rode with Mason in his company car to the office. They tried to small-talk but couldn’t get comfortable enough to have a full-on conversation. Vic swore he sighed in sync with her as they pulled into the office parking garage. 

Mason’s company was in a five-story office building located near downtown Gotham. The construction looked new and grey was the dominating color. The building towered over Vic as her and Mason approached the building. 

Vic could sense the atmosphere as soon as she entered the building. Everyone was wearing a faux face or persona, she realized that Mason had this affliction as well, permanently. She kept her mouth shut while riding with Mason in the elevator. 

Eventually, Mason and Vic arrived at the suite leased by ‘Evans and Lawson Construction’. It took up an entire floor, but the office itself was relatively quiet. 

The reception area was simple and held a few couches and a receptionist desk. A young woman sat at the desk, lighting up as soon as she saw Mason. 

“Good morning, sir!” She said cheerfully, putting on the faux face Vic had seen on others while walking through the building. 

“Morning, Julie,” Mason replied, motioning towards Vic. “This is my step-daughter, Victoria, you’ll probably be working alongside her.” 

Vic could see a series of emotions play on Julie’s face. She assumed that Julie knew who she was already.

They cordially shook hands and Julie filled Mason in on anything he had missed in the office. 

Vic’s office tour continued as Mason prepared for the day. It felt like she was being introduced to a new person every few minutes. She hoped she could remember their names, or even just faces. 

Finally, Vic and Mason ran into the office manager, Ruth. 

“Ruth, this is my step-daughter, Victoria, she will be reporting to you as of today,” Mason said proudly. Vic smiled and put her hand out. 

“Your step-daughter? The felon?” Ruth said monotone. Vic felt her face flush and began to retract her hand. Mason let out an awkward laugh that lasted five seconds too long.

“Oh, Ruth. Your humor is so dry, but I love it!” Mason exclaimed. “Victoria has made tremendous progress these last few years and I really believe that having a diverse set of views at the company is beneficial.”

Vic looked at the wall, she couldn’t bear to look at either of them out of embarrassment. She knew her face was red, but she tried to hide it. 

“Maybe it is,” Ruth said to Mason, her opinion unchanged. She walked away after saying goodbye to Mason. 

“So does that happen often?” Vic asked Mason once she was out of earshot.

“People just say things sometimes, don’t take it too personally,” Mason told her. “They probably don’t have bad intentions and, you know, it’s the office.” Vic frowned. 

Many of the people that Vic encountered in the office had a faux face, but they occasionally let their feelings be known like Ruth. 

The first week in the office was standard for Vic. She got to know the layout, people, and her basic job duties. The following weeks were more difficult, as she found herself being shown things once and then ignored. People would act friendly, but she could tell they didn’t want to be bothered. 

She also learned the hard way that just because people weren’t straightforward like Ruth, it didn’t mean they weren’t conniving behind her back. 

Vic was one of many secretaries, and on more than one occasion she had accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation involving her. 

“I wish I could go to prison for 10 years and then just be given a cushy office job when I got out.” Vic heard one day while making her way to the break room for a cup of coffee. 

“Right? She’s spoiled, she should be working a hard job and making her way up to prove she actually learned anything.” A second voice chimed in. 

“You know she murdered someone, right?” Upon hearing the third voice, Vic turned around and walked back to her workstation, empty mug in hand. 

She dropped the empty mug off and then headed straight to the bathroom, finding an empty stall and locking the door. 

Once alone, she crossed her arms and cried quietly, trying not to make any audible noise. 

She wasn’t reacting to a specific emotion, but instead to a general feeling of being overwhelmed. Requiting her family required her to be thinking about past events constantly. It was something frequently on her mind when she was serving her time, but this was different. 

It was less personal. Her coworkers were general society. This is what they thought of her, and it seemed to be  _ all _ that they thought of her. Vic pondered if her being there was actually making their situation worse. 

It certainly was making her worse. 

Vic waited a few moments for her tears to dry. She stared at her eyes in the bathroom mirror, poking at the redness that had appeared. 

She cautiously entered the hall and to her dismay, her heart sank as saw someone she had gotten bad feelings about previously. 

The man had initially seemed friendly when Mason introduced them, but now Vic felt uneasy when around him. She tried to appear cordial, but some of the things he had said to her had made her uneasy. 

“Hey cutie,” the man started, he stopped walking upon seeing Vic. She waved. 

“You settling in alright?” He continued. She nodded. 

“I’m doing okay. Just regular first month things.” Vic replied, signaling with her body language that she needed to leave. She walked away slowly even as the man continued. 

“Well, feel free to chat sometime.” The man finally said as Vic walked back to her desk. 

Once seated at her workstation, Vic wondered if she could get away with crying at her desk. 

* * *

Once back at her family home that night, Vic isolated herself in her room. She ignored multiple requests for her presence, until she received a request that was hard to refuse. 

“Victoria, it’s your mother, open the door,” her mother’s voice boomed through the door. Vic sighed. 

“I want to be alone,” she yelled back. She could feel her mother’s frustration through the door. 

“This is my house. Open. The. Door.” Vic shuddered at her mother’s words. She felt like a child. It was like she hadn’t aged a day since seeing them. Vic felt an anger rising in her chest. 

Vic got up from the bed and opened the door halfway to face her mother. She frowned at her.

“What?” Vic said sharply. 

“Mason says your performance at work has not been very good, he wanted to let you know that you need to put in a bit more effort.” Her mother stated. Vic laughed in shock, was her mother serious?

“Well tell him that I’m sorry that my performance isn’t great, but also that I’ve been incarcerated the last 10 years and I’m still adjusting to things.” Vic said, hoping her mother found an ounce of sympathy for her. She wanted her to turn off the ‘tough love’ attitude for at least one second. 

“Is that the kind of attitude you bring into work?” Her mother looked at her, almost offended. 

“By ‘attitude’ do you mean me being upset at people talking behind my back and creepy men bothering me at work?” Vic inquired. Her mother just shook her head. 

Their conversation ended awkwardly and neither party was satisfied with the result. Vic’s mother reminded her of the event they were throwing the next day at the house and left her alone. 

Vic returned to her bed and tried to hide herself in the sheets. 

\----

Vic guessed the event that Mason and her mother were throwing was fairly large as she observed entertainers and caterers roaming through the house the next morning.

She caught up with her mother around noon to gauge her expectations. Despite the new day, the previous night’s tensions remained.

“Do I have to attend this party?” Vic asked her mother outright. Her mother laughed. 

“Do you have to? It’s centered around you.” Her mother clarified. Vic put on a confused face. “You could call it… a reintroduction to society?” Her mother continued, fully serious. 

Vic asked no further questions and decided to focus on blending-in when the time came. 

The party officially started at 5:00PM. It was around this time that Vic put on the black dress provided by her mother. 

She looked at herself in her bedroom mirror and took a deep breath. 

_ It doesn’t matter what other people think of you. You make your own reality,  _ she said to herself slowly. 

Vic ventured into the common areas of the house and noticed that strangers were arriving. She gave them basic greetings and tried to appear in a hurry. She had one thing on her mind: food. 

Peeking into the backyard, she saw exactly what she was looking for. Her parents had ordered what seemed to be a buffet line. 

Vic floated over to the buffet, taking in the gourmet food that had been freshly prepared. She was  _ spoiled _ when you compared what she had been mainly eating the last 10 years.  _ Hell, _ scratch that—the last 13 years, college food was also subpar.

Over the course of the party, Vic eventually found that she was enjoying herself. She downed a few drinks and enjoyed the buffet. The people were the worst part, but Vic found a few familiar faces to reconnect with— despite the awkwardness. 

As the party began to wind down and the crowd dispersed, Vic found another familiar face alone under the porch. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his aged face. 

“Bruce?” She exclaimed loud enough for him to notice. He eyed her curiously, unsure of who she was. Vic gingerly approached him.

“I’m Victoria Evans— Mason’s my step-father.” Vic blurted, doing nothing to help Bruce’s confusion. 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce started, “Have we met?” He inquired. Bruce couldn’t recall meeting her, but sensed that they had somehow met before. Vic’s breath caught in her throat. He didn’t remember.

“We have,” Vic started, “but it was 10 years ago.” She felt uneasy uncovering the past. “It was a tense moment. We met in the graveyard. I told you to leave, or rather, that you needed to..” She left out the sensitive details. 

Vic could see the memory flash across Bruce’s face and his face quickly turned to hurt. It felt like she had reopened a scar that had supposedly healed. 

“That was  _ you? _ But I thought—“ Bruce said, stumbling over his words. 

“Aren’t you Mason’s step-daughter? The one who went to prison?” Bruce asked. Vic bit her lip nervously but nodded. Bruce’s face turned to disgust and he took a step back from her. 

“Then— _ what the hell?  _ Weren’t you an accomplice of Joker?” Bruce asked nervously. Vic’s stomach turned— she should have never said anything. 

“I wouldn’t call myself an accomplice,” Vic started. Bruce narrowed his eyes. He wanted the truth. 

Vic felt her face become flush. Serving time for her crimes was one thing, fessing up to them in front of someone directly impacted by them was different. 

“You’re going to need to explain to me how you weren’t an accomplice of Joker yet also went to prison, only to wind up here with this cushy family,” Bruce said flatly. Vic frowned and a loneliness washed over her. Was she herself, or just a previous partner of Joker’s?

“I lived in an apartment next to him 10 years ago when I was in school. I thought he was an interesting guy and I was a naive 20 year old,” Vic began, looking down at her shoes while she explained.

“By the time I realized he was dangerous, it was too late. We were involved in an altercation at a restaurant. I shot the host. That’s what I ended up serving time for.” 

“Liar,” Bruce spat. Vic shot him a confused look. 

“You knew what he had done. You knew what he was turning into. And you just stood idly by,” Bruce said, his anger rising. Vic gulped. He had clearly researched the case.

“You walk around like you should be forgiven because you served time. No matter how much time you serve, it won’t bring back my parents or that man.” Bruce said, appearing to be on the verge of tears. He placed his drink on a nearby table and headed towards the exit. Vic watched him, unsure of what to say. She stood in shock.

She believed that she had ultimately helped Bruce. She thought she had saved his life. 

That reality was shattered. He hated her. He couldn’t care less if he had helped her. He would have preferred that she had  _ not _ helped. 

Vic held her tears while speed-walking through the house past the remnants of the party. She headed straight for her room and closed the door louder than her mother would prefer. 

She collapsed onto her bed and sobbed into her pillow. Her past was never going to leave her. It was here to stay. 

She wasn’t Victoria anymore, she was an ex-felon and ex-accomplice to Gotham’s most wanted criminal. She was a murderer. A stupid slut who couldn’t see red flags even if they were shoved into her face. 

She tried to push the thoughts out of her brain, but found minimal opposing evidence to replace them with.

Eventually, the thoughts dissipated as she cried herself to a sleep.

* * *

The usual pestering followed the party. Her mother knocked on her door early in the morning.

“I need to give some critiques to you regarding the party, Victoria,” Her mother said through the door. 

“ _ Not right now. I’m sick. I don’t feel well,”  _ Vic shouted through the door. She heard her mother gasp from the other side of the door.

“I— you better not have spread that to any of our guests Victoria!” Her mother yelled. Vic didn’t respond. The conversation fizzled out.

Eventually a day had passed since their interaction. Vic found it impossible to move even an inch from her bed. 

One day turned into two, and eventually, two turned into three.

Loud knocking. 

“ _ Victoria! _ Come out here right now! You’ve got to be feeling somewhat better and Mason needs to talk with you about your job,” her mother yelled through the door once again. Vic cringed at the sentence. She hated that fucking job. 

“I’m still sick, leave me alone.” Vic replied. 

No response from her mother. 

No response the next day either. In fact, it sounded like there was nobody in the house at all. 

Vic decided this was the perfect time to venture out. She walked through the deafeningly silent and dark house. Her eyes caught a small note near the front door titled ‘Victoria’.

Vic picked up the note. Her eyes fluttered as she read it. 

“ _ We’re off on a vacation.  _

_ Don’t call.”  _

Vic felt her eyes becoming misty. She wasn’t sure why she hated the note so much. She didn’t care that they were going on vacation, she would have said no if they asked anyway. 

Wouldn’t she?

She looked at the last two words closely. Don’t call. 

Her mother didn’t care if she was sick or unhappy. She didn’t care about her. Period. None of them did.

Vic went back upstairs and stepped into the bathroom attached to her bedroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, but struggled to keep eye contact with herself. 

Instead, she looked at herself from afar. Her face had matured over the years, signs of aging had appeared. Had 10 years gone by that quickly? She squeezed portions of her face, hyper fixating on the parts that stood out. 

“10 years of my life that I will never get back,” Vic mouthed to herself in the mirror. A lone tear streamed down her face and she sniffed quietly. 

_ I can’t feel like this much longer.  _

Without another thought she ran to the office downstairs. She rummaged through the drawers until she found what she was looking for. 

Vic flipped through the address book until she found what she was looking for.  _ Bruce Wayne.  _

She ripped the page out and grabbed a blank piece of paper nearby. She began writing feverishly as tears slipped from her eyes.

“ _ Bruce,  _

_ I know that no amount of apologies can change anything. My words can’t change what’s happened, but my heart couldn’t handle saying nothing before saying goodbye.  _

_ I’ve lived the last ten years without many regrets. I operated on autopilot and assumed that all my choices were finally fine. I knew that I had fucked up, but I was determined to change.  _

_ I served my time with the one reassuring thought that: at least I had saved you. I took a life, but in return I saved one. You were part of a timeline that I thought about frequently. What else was I supposed to think about? _

_ I’m sorry. I realize now that I am part of something much bigger. I was wrong. Serving my time did nothing and there are some things that we do and have to live with the consequences forever.  _

_ Please don’t think of me as a coward. I think this decision is the best one for me and everyone around me. _

_ I’m so sorry, Bruce.” _

Victoria carefully signed her name and reread the letter. She took a deep breath and put the letter in an envelope. 

She put on a light coat and called for a driver. The driver seemed surprised to see her, and even more surprised to see where she was headed. 

“I was confused when I saw the number since the rest of your family is out of town. But of course— we’re always at your service,” he told Vic once she got in the car. Vic handed him the ripped page from the address book.

“The Wayne estate? What business do you have there?” The driver said, laughing slightly. 

“Oh, uh,” Vic tried to think of a good excuse, “Mason has been trying to network with him. Since I’m working for him now and not on the trip, I thought I’d help out.” Vic said, clutching the letter for Bruce tightly in her hand. 

The driver got the sense that she didn’t want to go into details. He kept the conversation light until they arrived. Vic thanked him and watched him drive away down the ordanent road. 

Dusk had begun and the Wayne estate loomed in the distance as Vic stared towards it from the road. The fence towered over her and seemed to run on forever. 

Deep down, she had hoped that she could see Bruce one last time, but the estate was inaccessible. Vic crouched down and tucked the letter under the fence so that it wouldn’t be blown away by the wind. She then stood up quickly and began to walk towards the general direction of her house. 

Her breathing became quick and she felt a surge of adrenaline in her veins. She was going to do it. Was she going to do it?

After walking for what felt like a lifetime, she turned the corner to head to the large suspension bridge that connected the city to the outskirts. Cars blinded her as they drove slowly past. She walked slowly on the bridge’s pathway, dragging her fingers lightly on the metal that separated her and the edge. 

Victoria reached the middle of the bridge and looked over the edge. There was nothing but darkness below, but she could faintly hear the water moving below. 

She leaned, closing her eyes and letting the wind hit her face. The bridge swayed as she felt the few cars rush past behind her. 

She looked behind and around her. The silence was deafening and her breath caught in her throat. She gripped the metal fence, hoisted her legs over it and then sat on it carefully. 

Her feet dangled over as she kept a firm grip on the railing. 

Why wasn’t anyone driving past? 

She could slip, slip so easily. 

Nobody would be there. 

How would they know?

Would they know?

Do they care?

A hand.

Vic lurched forward and yelped upon feeling a warm hand gently touch her arm. 

She gasped and her yelp turned into a scream as she slipped off the railing. Her hands quickly reached for the railing. Once one hand reached it, the other was grabbed by the same hand that had caused her to slip. 

She was assisted in getting back up and over the railing. Once she had reached the ground she found herself slightly shaking from the adrenaline. 

It took her a few seconds to remember that somebody else was there. Her brain slowly processed Bruce’s face in front of her. 

“ _ What-  _ why are you here?  _ How _ are you here?” Vic’s shaky voice asked him. Bruce held up the letter that she had written just hours ago. 

Vic laughed. She wasn’t sure from what. Maybe it was the absurdity, maybe it was just the coping mechanism that she decided to use in the moment. 

“I know you hate me, you told me already,” Vic muttered. 

“I had an epiphany,” Bruce started. Vic scowled. Just now? He couldn’t have had it a little earlier? 

“I don’t hate you. I have no reason to,” Bruce said reluctantly, “you did try. I can acknowledge that.” Vic crossed her arms in discomfort. 

“My anger was misdirected. I should be pissed at Joker, not you. If anything, I guess you were a victim, too,” Bruce sighed. Vic now looked at him with interest. 

“...And you’re someone who can potentially get close to him,” Bruce tried to say nonchalantly. Vic felt her stomach twist as she realized what he was implying.

She shook her head and smiled. 

“I…” she scoffed, “I  _ never  _ want to see that man again. Fuck him.” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Not even for a quick…” He rubbed his fingers together, and tilted his head. “I thought you were working for Mason now?” 

Vic frowned, “I am.” 

“He’s miserable,” Bruce said. 

“I’ll die before stepping another foot in that office,” Vic spat.

Bruce left a silence between them. Vic just shook her head slowly. Bruce audibly sighed. 

“Come  _ on,  _ you were about to kill yourself! I saw you! At least do something worthwhile before it,” Bruce sounded exasperated. Vic frowned and turned away from Bruce and towards the water. 

_ Fuck, _ Bruce thought,  _ that was the wrong thing to say.  _

Bruce joined her in looking towards the water and leaned on the railing. 

“If not for me, then for Gotham, Victoria. You already know about what he’s capable of. He’s made this place hell,” Bruce reasoned, “he’s cunning, he has loyal followers that would sacrifice themselves in a heartbeat.” 

Vic looked at Bruce sideways and then down at the water. 

“You really think he would give any shit about me, anyway?” Vic asked him. 

“Well, the rumor is he’s a slight sex addict,” Bruce stated. 

“Oh, great. Thanks for that,” Vic responded. 

She looked towards the city for the first time. The lights shone across the water and loomed over the both of them. 

“I guess I could give it a shot.” 


	2. Pockets and Posies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one— changing the tags pretty drastically this time but I understand if it’s not to some people’s taste (:

Vic stood tall in front of the oak vanity. She turned sideways, tracing her profile and contour, looking at herself up and down. 

It took an entire week to get out, but she was officially out of the family home. Vic debated not telling anyone she was taking a leave from work and, well,  _ them. _ But reason finally got to her and she told them over dinner.

Needless to say, it went horribly. There was crying, sighing, and yelling from the people Vic expected the actions from the least.

She put it out of her brain, it was in the past now. Maybe her safety net was smaller, but it was replaced by a Wayne. 

At least she had that going for her. 

Bruce agreed to give her a weekly pay, food, and lodging in exchange for her espionage. 

Despite Vic’s skepticism, Bruce insisted that infiltrating the Joker’s operations was easier said than done.

“I’m sorry, and maybe it’s because my memory is bad, but Arthur was not… bright,” Vic hesitated on the last word. 

“Ok, I thought he was a bit of an idiot,” Vic finally admitted. She sunk into the comfy chair in the Wayne Estate, trying to focus on the scribbles Bruce was making on a chalkboard. She yawned. 

She might have been falling asleep. 

“I admit, there was a big personality change after he stopped taking whatever drugs they had prescribed him, but he just became more rash, not a genius,” Vic explained, Bruce rolled his eyes. 

“Right, but this is based off of my current intelligence information, yours is based off of memories from 10 years ago,” Bruce said, making his final touches to the board. 

“Let run through it one more time—“ Bruce pointed to the first bullet point. 

“I go to that thrift store frequented by Quinn—“ Vic began. 

“Pockets and Posies,” Bruce interrupted. 

“—befriend her and convince her to take me to the abandoned mansion—“ Vic continued.

“Old Gotham State Asylum,” Bruce blurted.

“Then I gather as much intelligence as I can, before you tip off your… friends, about this hideout they’ve made.” Vic said. 

Bruce nodded. 

“Is this illegal, withholding information?” Vic asked him.

“...they don’t usually ask me how long I’ve known.”

* * *

Vic wasn’t sure which job category espionage fell under— but she knew it would have never been an option when she took her career inventory test in high school. 

But she had to admit—she was enjoying it. 

Initially, it consisted of waiting in the Wayne Estate until she was needed— Bruce didn’t pay her since she technically wasn’t working, but she had a place to stay, maybe the occasional task given to her by Bruce and Alfred— his in-home butler that had worked for the family for decades. 

After a week, she began to notice a form of secrecy between them. They would lower their voices when talking, even when she was rooms away. 

She also, to her embarrassment, tried to open the wrong door once (it’s a big place, ok?) only to find it locked. 

It didn’t remain on Vic’s mind for long. Finally, after two weeks had passed, the day of opportune came. 

“It’s starting. She’s at the restaurant now, in a few hours she should be making her way to the store,” Bruce said around 9 a.m. They rehearsed the plan again to make sure everything was clear.

Vic had butterflies in her stomach while thinking about the plan, but she told herself to act natural. She still had the ability to befriend people, right?

She laughed as they made final preparations, and Alfred brought out the outfit they picked for her. 

“Am I trying to draw  _ more  _ attention to myself? I thought I was going undercover,” Vic said. They had brought out a pink jumpsuit along with the puffiest, softest coat she had ever seen. 

“In this case, at least for this store, this is normal,” Bruce said. He handed her a pink lipstick and sunglasses to wear with her outfit. 

“Just lipstick?” She asked them, “I thought an outfit like this would be paired with more makeup, but I guess it works.” 

She got ready as quickly as possible. Then Alfred and her waved goodbye to Bruce as they headed towards the city. 

She was dropped off a couple of blocks away from the store, Pockets and Posies. 

Vic followed their instructions and eventually found the store. It looked like a high-end boutique, but Bruce was right that the clientele dressed… eccentrically. 

She walked into the store confidently— reminding herself that she wasn’t who she actually was. She was acting. Victoria? Didn’t know her. But she knew Jessica Evans (thankfully, Arthur didn’t know about her family composition).

She greeted the cashier and began to look at the clothes, keeping an eye on the other customers. 

Bruce had shown her Harley’s picture numerous times. She was a young, bleach blonde girl who looked at the camera intensely. 

She resisted turning quickly when she heard the door open and an enthusiastic voice. 

“Hey Amber!” The voice said, “I need your help right now— it’s tonight.” 

Vic listened with interest and glanced over towards the door. Sure enough, it was a bleach blonde girl, dressed to fit the store. She listened closer while pretending to be interested in the clothing racks. 

“We have a date tonight and I think he’s going to propose!” Harley squealed. Vic furrowed her brows. Maybe Bruce’s information collecting was actually shit. If she was on the brink of being Joker’s fiancé why would she take  _ Vic _ to wherever they’re staying? 

Vic recomposed herself as Harley began to pick out items and try them on. Vic chose a few items as well and put herself in a dressing room right next to Harley. 

She put on the dress and then came out when she heard Harley also exiting the dressing room. Vic let out a gasp. 

“Oh my GOD! You better buy that dress—“ Vic exclaimed towards Harley who was checking out herself in the mirror, “It makes your ass look amazing.” 

Harley smiled at her, “you think so?” She turned sideways and looked towards the mirror, “wow, it  _ does! _ ” Harley exclaimed. 

“My boyfriend’s going to propose to me tonight,” she smiled and said to Vic. 

“Wow, congrats. How long have you been dating?” Vic took the opportunity to also check out her choice in the mirror. 

“Almost six months, but I don’t think time should matter if you really love somebody.” Harley adjusted her dress, smiling and posing at herself in the mirror. Vic’s jaw dropped. She should have asked Bruce how old Harley was, up close she still seemed very young and still had a slight baby face. 

“Right, of course,” Vic replied. 

“I’m Harley, by the way,” Harley put her hand out. Vic shook it.

“Call me Jessica,” Vic replied, smiling. “So then if this is a big day I assume you’ll have your mom or sister help you get ready right? So that your hair and makeup can be perfect too?” Vic commented. 

Harley sighed, “everyone at my place is either a man or can’t do hair and makeup for shit,” Harley pushed her shoulder length hair behind her ear. 

“Oh, really?” Vic remarked, “it’s so easy, I used to be a hairdresser and stylist.” She said nonchalantly. This wasn’t a total lie— while in prison she spent some time working at the hairdressers with the limited resources they had. 

Harley looked at her with interest, “are you any good?” She asked. 

“If I wasn’t, I think Ms. Stacy back at my old place would have stopped coming to me after the 2nd or 3rd time,” Vic shrugged. 

She hated how easy that was.

* * *

Vic decided she was not surprised when Harley took her to the abandoned, fenced off mansion and got in by climbing through a window. It seemed fitting.

The room was filled with high-end furniture that seemed out of place in an abandoned building. It created an unusual aesthetic. There was a large bed, huge dressers, a mirror and a couple of chairs. 

Harley wasted no time changing into the outfit she had purchased from the store. The dress resembled thousands of tiny, tiny diamonds that glimmered with every piece of light that hit them. It was more of a cocktail dress and sat above her knee. 

Vic put down a bag of makeup that they had also purchased while out. She unpacked the bag and put the items in order as Harley flopped onto the bed. 

“I’m ready for my  _ amazing _ transformation,” she said, posing for effect. 

Vic applied her makeup and focused on her eyes. They decided to try and mimic the dress, so Vic picked out the brightest, most reflective eye color they could find.

She kept her lips natural but went heavy on the highlighter and blush. 

Once she was done, it was finally time for the hair. Vic decided on a simple updo with plenty of hairspray. 

“Done, didn’t take too long, right? You’ll still make it to the dinner?” Vic asked her. 

Harley stood up and went to look in the mirror, she gasped.

“You did  _ this _ in an hour? Fantastic!” She exclaimed. Vic smiled. She had fun, even though she knew that she was acting with ulterior motive. 

“It’s just in time too— I’m leaving now to see Mister J at the restaurant,” Harley said, darting around the room looking for a proper bag. “Oh Jessica, how can I repay you?” Harley crossed her hands over her heart sincerely. 

“I have just one request,” Vic started, Harley nodded and reassured her. “Of course, anything!” 

“Let me use your bathroom?” Vic said. 

“Out the door and down the hall to your left,” Harley said quickly and was halfway out the window again before Vic could say anything. 

“You’re the best!” Harley said from afar. Vic just stood in the room, mouth agape and her mind moving 100 miles a minute.

Harley was gone? She didn’t care what she did now?

It was Bruce’s lucky day. 

He mainly wanted to know what was going on inside the building and how tight their “security” was. 

Vic carefully opened the bedroom door to the hall. It seemed normal so she continued. 

It was quiet in the hall, and Vic realized she hadn’t seen or heard anybody else since arriving. She decided to go down the stairs that sat in the middle of the hallway. 

It brought her to a dining area that seemed like it had not been used for years. She could see a layer of dust, even from afar. She felt her nervousness rising as she crossed through the dining room to a sitting area. 

Like the other rooms, it seemed that nobody was using the couches regularly. 

Vic felt her body freeze suddenly as the smell of cigarettes came wafting towards her. 

“Can I help you?” A voice said behind her. She was petrified now. She recognized that sing-songy tone. 

“I don’t know how you got in here, but I’m thinking you’re not supposed to be here,” the voice behind her remarked. 

Vic turned and faced the figure that she had expected. 

Arthur. Ten years older but still touting his face paint and purple suit. He looked anything but ready for his date with Harley.

“I’m Harley’s friend, Jessica,” Vic said confidently, “I helped her get ready for her date and then I needed to use the bathroom before I left.” 

Arthur moved closer to her and crossed the dining room. He smoked his cigarette silently and Vic wasn’t sure if he knew who she was. 

He stopped about 3 feet in front of her and then held out his hand to introduce himself, “Joker.” 

Vic shook it. His hand was cold. She gulped after their hands separated. 

“How long have you known Harley?” He asked. 

“About a month,” she replied. 

“That must be why she’s never mentioned you,” he said, taking another drag of his cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the floor. 

He moved slightly closer to her and Vic froze. 

“She’s never mentioned you, but I’m sure she mentioned our agreement?” He suggested.

Vic felt her face flush while thinking about Bruce’s stupid comment. She looked down at her feet and stepped back away from him, backing into the dining table. 

“Well, it seemed like you two were dating and she seemed to think you were going to propose to her tonight,” Vic said. 

Arthur laughed slightly, Vic closed her eyes upon hearing his distinctive laugh. She didn’t want to be around him. It felt like she was a young college student again. She didn’t feel safe. 

“You should go, Harley’s waiting for you, she left a while ago,” Vic said, looking at him directly. 

Arthur dropped his cigarette to the ground and dragged it with his foot. 

And just like that, he was gone. 

* * *

Vic couldn’t remember how she left the mansion, all she knew was that she left. The mansion was on a huge plot of land, and she marked the location in her mind before leaving completely. W 10th Ave and Birch St.

She only calmed down once she reached the Wayne Mansion again and was inside safely. 

When she returned, the questioning began. Bruce wanted to know every detail of what she had seen. Once he learned that she had seen Joker as well, his questions multiplied. They sat in the office where they had originally discussed the plans.

Vic answered his questions and kept a stoic face. She felt safe but adrenaline was still in her veins. 

Once Bruce’s questions seemed to slow down, she found the courage to let him know something on her mind. 

“Bruce, I do hope this helped you— but I don’t think I can do this,” Vic started. Bruce said nothing. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. 

“I really appreciate that you’ve helped me out so much, but I feel like I’m just reliving 10 years ago. I didn’t want to do that, I wanted to move on, you know?” Vic said. 

“Are you afraid of him?” Bruce asked her. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but Bruce interrupted her. 

“I should have given you something to defend yourself with.” Bruce grimaced.

“I— it’s not that, I just—“ Vic struggled to find her words as Bruce’s comment replayed in her head. She gulped.

Maybe he was right. She was scared, but was that  _ it?  _ What else was the cause of the intense adrenaline that ran through her? 

“There’s things too personal to talk about. I’m sorry. I’ll pack my things and leave in the morning,” Vic began to stand up but was stopped by Bruce. 

“You can’t, didn’t you say your family was furious when you told them you were leaving?” Bruce stated. 

“I’ll figure it out— they just want to step all over me, so if I let them do that I’m sure they’ll let me back,” Vic huffed.

“You really want to work at that office again as a secretary? For little pay? To allow the verbal abuse from your family?” Bruce asked passionately. 

“ _ Stop it _ !” Vic yelled. 

“I’m supposed to be the one in charge here— I’m the adult. You’re a teenager.” Vic said calmly, “I shouldn’t be arguing with you about whether or not I’m staying at your fucking house!” 

“I’m 22.” Bruce said flatly. 

Vic looked around the room, frowning. She attempted to stand again. Bruce watched her leave the room. 

She didn’t leave to pack her things, but instead walked outside and began her long walk to the street. 

It was slightly chilly, so she walked briskly to keep warm.

She walked the path she had taken a few weeks ago to the bridge. This time she walked straight over it into the city. Uptown. 

The neon lights glowed brightly in the dark and she walked a couple of blocks, trying to decide which expensive bar she wanted to waste her money at.

A neon sign glowed in the distance. It was shaped into a rose and stem. She began to walk straight towards it.

She lowered her face slightly as she passed a young girl sitting and sobbing quietly in an alley. 

“ _ Yup, I get it,”  _ Vic thought, stealing a millisecond of a glance as she passed by. A partial sparkle twinkled in the corner of her eye. 

She gasped as a lightbulb clicked in her head. Harley. 

Vic approached her cautiously and got down to her level. 

“Harley?” Vic asked quietly.

Harley looked up and her demeanor instantly changed. 

“Oh, Jess!” She exclaimed and pulled Vic into a hug.

“I’m such a stupid idiot,” she sobbed, “Mister J didn’t propose— he took me to that fucking fancy dinner just to break up with me.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Harley. That’s just… cruel,” Vic said, rubbing her back as she continued to cry. 

“I looked absolutely  _ ridiculous _ in the restaurant. I cried and cried, he just sat there and ate his food,” Harley cried. 

“Even worse— he said I should still stay with him in that mansion so we can keep a… physical relationship,” Harley muttered. 

Vic felt her depression being replaced by a deep anger. Then, the anger turned into sadness. She looked at Harley. She was so young, probably younger than she was when she had lived next to Arthur in college. 

“Are you going back?” She asked Harley. 

Harley shrugged and answered in a sad voice.

“Where else do I have to go?” 

Vic said nothing and pulled her into another hug. She wanted to bring her back to the Wayne Mansion, to reassure her that she had a place to stay. To clothe and feed her like she wanted. 

Vic wiped a tear from her own face and pulled out her bag. She grabbed $100 from her wallet and put it into Harley’s hand. 

“Stay in a hotel tonight and we can discuss later. I think we both need to unwind a bit,” Vic smirked. 

They both drank their hearts out, enjoying each other's company and basking in drunkenness. 

* * *

Vic made sure that Harley got into her hotel room safely after their drinking and then went to a payphone. 

She hesitated and tried to think clearly about who she should call. In reality, she knew only two useful numbers. 

Her family’s home phone, and somehow, the Wayne Estate. Maybe it wasn’t bad that Bruce made her memorize the phone number, just in case she needed it on her task. 

She dialed the number and reached a recognizable voice. 

“Hello?” It was actually Alfred. Probably better. 

“Alfred! It’s Victoria— I have a big favor to ask of you. I don’t know if you saw— but I kind of left in a tantrum. I’m at a payphone in Uptown and honestly— pretty sure I’m about to passs out…” Vic said into the phone. 

She gave him the address and it felt like the car pulled up next to her just a few moments later. She climbed into the back and sighed a breath of relief. 

“I’m glad you changed your mind,” a voice said next to her. She jumped, having not noticed Bruce when she climbed into the car. 

“You scared me— what time is it?” Vic asked him. 

“Almost 2 A.M.” He replied. Vic sighed. Time had passed in the blink of an eye. 

“I want to fucking kill him,” Vic said out loud. Bruce raised his eyebrow at her comment in interest. 

“Kill who?” He asked, thinking she was referring to her night out. 

“Arthur Fleck. Joker.” Vic said. She closed her eyes to stop the nausea that she felt coming on. 

Bruce smirked and looked out the window at the lights in the city.

“He’s good for nothing. A manipulator. Likes fucking young girls who are vulnerable and he enjoys playing with their minds.” Vic muttered. She frowned and crossed her arms. 

“I wanted to the first time. I didn’t want to the second time,” she continued saying to herself, “But I felt so powerless. Not just physically, but situationally. So trapped,” she frowned and felt her eyes watering.

“Oh, Harley, I hope you don’t feel the way I do,” she said, sniffing and wiping her cheek. 

The rest of the car ride contained silence. 

The next sound came from Bruce, as Vic made her way to her assigned room once they were back to the mansion. 

“Victoria,” Bruce said abruptly before Vic could go to her room. 

“We’ll get him,” Bruce said.

* * *

Vic felt a light hand on her shoulder the morning after her drinking. She opened her eyes slowly, ignoring the terrible feeling that hit her. 

“Morning, you awake enough to help me with something?” Bruce asked her. 

Vic groaned. 

“Not really, but I’ll manage.”

They went to the office and Vic sipped at a tea to try and help her head. 

“This is really important and confidential information. If we didn’t have to work so closely, you would never know,” Bruce explained. Vic looked at him confusedly. What secret could  _ he  _ have? 

“But now that I know you also have passion in this, and we’ve seen you work, I think it’s ok.” Bruce continued. 

Vic stared at him blankly. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” Bruce said seriously. 

Vic gave him the hand sign to continue, “I get it, I’ll be killed if I share. Society could collapse, etc, etc.” 

Bruce brought a newspaper over to her. Vic held back a laugh and took the newspaper. 

“This is national news?” She asked and looked at the front page. 

“Right, Batman, questionable vigilante,” she said while flipping to the next page. “Stocks down, overall, boring. Politics, politics—“ 

“No, you missed it,” Bruce sighed and flipped the newspaper to the front page again.

Vic looked at him, not understanding. 

“Oh… do you know him?” She asked. 

Bruce grabbed the paper and held it up next to his face. 

Vic laughed and then took a closer look at the newspaper and Bruce. Her jaw dropped and she snatched the paper out of his hands to look at it closer.

“So, this is  _ you? _ ” she remarked. “I would have never guessed.”

“But isn’t it kind of excessive? Arthur already knows who you are and your motivations. He’s figured it out, right?” Vic asked. 

“Who knows,” Bruce said as he took the paper, “this is why I need more information. I have a personal goal, but there’s also people depending on me to stop Joker’s numerous other crimes.” 

“Right,” Vic said, “my job.” 


End file.
